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The conversation quickly snowballed into an intense discussion about Kendrick and his future with the Rangers, and for a few minutes, Tucker lost himself in it. It was easy to do—Cooper and Beau felt that he was the franchise player Tucker believed him to be. While his father and Rick felt he was too young to carry the weight of the team and definitely too green to lead.
Their corner soon got loud, as the Simons tended to do, and it might have accelerated if not for the woman making her way toward them.
Tucker’s mother appeared at his father’s side, effectively shutting down the curse words. Not that his mother was a prude—far from it—but his mom had a few rules in that regard. Firstly, if you had the occasion to wear a suit, than cursing wasn’t allowed. And secondly? If you had the occasion to wear a suit and disregarded her first rule, then there would be hell to pay.
Tucker’s mom believed cursing was best left for the outdoors or behind closed doors, and most definitely not in mixed company.
She kissed her husband, Noah, on the cheek and then reached for Tucker.
Eden DuRocher-Simon was small, delicate even, but Tucker braced himself as he scooped her into a hug, because he knew that she had no problem giving it to any of them. And right about now he was the one who was going to be getting the giving.
But she surprised Tucker. She accepted his kiss, his murmured apology for not returning her calls, and she even smiled up at him as he relaxed his grip. Her smile was almost a little too sweet.
Tucker watched her suspiciously. Something was up.
“You look beautiful, Mom,” Tucker murmured, squeezing her hand as she stepped back.
And she did. Her hair, the color of burnished sable, glistened beneath the lights, brushing her shoulders. She wore a pale yellow dress, classy in style with a fitted bodice and a skirt that fell just above her knew. It was set off with a strand of pearls that he knew his father had given her on their wedding day, the matching earrings finishing the ensemble.
Eden accepted a glass of wine from her husband and took a sip, her look direct as she gazed up at her son.
Tucker knew something was coming at him and he had a feeling it was—
“So I just met the loveliest girl. Abby Mathews.”
Shit.
Tucker glanced at Beau, but his brother shrugged which basically meant he was on his own.
“Is she the reason you’ve been,” his mother’s eyebrow shot up, “so busy?”
Christ. Here we go.
“Mom,” Tucker began, but he was cutoff by a low whistle.
“Who the hell is that?” Cooper asked as they all gazed across the room.
“Cooper, language,” Eden murmured.
Betty Jo was grabbing two champagne glasses from a waiter, and sure, she looked amazing as ever, but it was the woman beside her who had Tucker’s attention. And he was pretty damn sure she had everyone else’s too.
Abby.
She looked unbelievable and not at all like the Abby he was used to. This Abby looked as if she’d just stepped out of the pages of some society magazine.
Dramatic makeup. Hair styled so that it fell over one shoulder in rippling waves of dark chestnut. Mouth glossy and full. Dressed in a strapless blood red cocktail dress that hugged her figure in a way that was meant to garner attention, Tucker snuck a look at his cousins. Rick was smiling at her and Cooper’s gaze was locked onto Abby as if she was a piece of candy he wanted to lick.
Tucker took a step forward. No way in hell was Cooper getting close to Abby. If anyone was going to lick her, it was gonna be him.
“Who the…who is that woman?” Cooper asked again.
Tucker threw his cousin a warning look which only made Cooper’s smile widen.
“Why that’s Tucker’s new friend, Abby,” his mother replied in her slow southern drawl. “And she’s such a delight. Smart as a whip, funny as all get out and she can hold her own with Betty, which—” she glanced at Beau and winked—“isn’t the easiest thing to do.”
Beau snorted. “You got that right.”
“I like a woman with a sense of humor,” his mother said softly.
